Seyyed of Quarters 15 (38)

Memories of Iranian Released POW, Seyyed Jamal Setarehdan

2017-7-17

Seyyed of Quarters 15

Memories of Iranian Released POW, Seyyed Jamal Setarehdan

Edited and Compiled by: Sassan Nateq

Tehran, Sooreh Mehr Publications Company

‎2016 (Persian Version)‎

Translated by: Zahra Hosseinian

Chapter 7

The fragrance of life

It had passed a month of my liberty. I still was my family’s favorite. They didn’t allow me not lift a hand, but I became bored of sitting in home and didn’t do anything. I went out of the room. I looked at our faded entrance door. To get rid of boredom, I went out and bought a few kilos paint and some brushes from paint and hardware store. Before captivity period, each one kilo can of paint was 250 Riyals. I thought that I spent only sixty Tomans, but now I should pay 2500 Rilas for each one-kilo can. The seller took me six hundred Tomans. "Why the prices have multiplied" I said to myself.

I got busy painting the entrance door, windows, and rails and finished all within three days. I had finished painting the door when my cousin, Dr. Zekavati, arrived. He took a look at our old door and said: "Cousin! It’s like you’ve made up an old woman!"

I learned through the other POWs that Akbar Karami has been liberated fifteen days after us. I was happy to hear about his safety. Our friends and relatives invited me for lunch and dinner, but I could not accept their invitation. When I went to a party, was insisted to eat much. When I eat much, felt ill and they got upset.

One day, the door was knocked. I hadn’t still gotten up when one of children went and opened the door. An old man came into the yard. Two people had taken under his arm and helped him to walk. The faces of near and far friends and acquaintances passed in front of my eyes like a film. Between these images I was looking for a familiar face.  I should seek the old man somewhere between memories of my teenage. Imagining those years, I recognized his face among school students. I knew him. Unconsciously, I put my hand on my head. I could still feel the pain of being hit by ruler under my skin. He was Mr. Daneshparvar, the assistant principal of my school. I went ahead very soon and said, "It was kind of you to come to see me, Mr. Daneshparvar."

He opened his arms and said tearful: "When I heard you’ve returned, I asked the boys bring me to see you."

We sat down and spoke with each other. I put a cup of tea in front of him. But he still cried and asked about hardships of captivity period. And I thought that how his face has been wrinkled, and his feet didn’t have enough energy helping him to stand.

I could not stand to be idle. I looked for and found POWs of other camps. Like me, they did not know what to do. Remembering the days of youth, we went to the Haft-e-tir gym which had renamed to Shahid Deereen. We played football and then I returned home. I was watching TV, when the announcer said that the president's office has announced that we will help POWs to find job until the next six months.

The next day I met one of the employees of Ardabil Transport. We knew each other. When I spoke with him about my situation, he said: "Come to work in our office."

On 11^th December, 1990, I went to the Department of Transportation and submitted my application to the director general. Engineer Nazarimehr was the director general of Ardabil Transportation. He warmly welcomed and asked me to tell him the memories of captivity. "From tomorrow you can begin your work here daily-paid." He listened and said.

Days passed and life went on until when Hussein Basiji came to meet me. I was happy to see him and we recalled the past. I showed him the Ardabil sights. We cooked Ash-e doogh for him and we both went to Gavmesh Goli thermal spring in Sareyn. Hussein said that his wounds has been operated many times after liberty, but he must visit a doctor again.

It was February 1991, my daily-paid job was changed to an official employee and I continued my work as an interest-free accountant. Later, the government ratified a decree and I began working as an official employee. My parents wanted me to think about getting married. So, I got married on 11^th April 1991, according to the customs and traditions.

Sometimes, I heard about other POWs. One day, I heard Seyyed Kazem AaleTaha has informed Adel Varqaee that Seyyed Fakhruddin, one of guardians of camp-15, along with a few others have taken refuge in Iran after the Kuwait war. Adel went to meet Seyyed Fakhruddin and in the meal time, he put the tray of food in front of them respectfully. Adel’s politeness recalled Seyyed Fakhruddin the days when he and Abu Jasem teased us and threw bread in front of us. Seyyed Fakhruddin cried and asked Adel and Seyyed Kazem to forgive him.

In March 2012, I went to war zones along with my wife and son; to Qasr-e Shirin, to Gilan-e Gharb, to Cham Imam Hassan, and to the area where I had been captured. In Sarpol-e Zahab, we went Seyyed Mojtaba Jasemi’s home. We were pleased of revisiting each other. Seyyed Mojtaba had become the chairman of city council of Sarpol-e Zahab. He began to ring some ones and said, "Do you know who’s here? Seyyed!"

Nazarabadi and Akbar Karami came. "I hadn’t seen Akbar for two years." Seyyed Mojtaba said, "You make us to revisit each other."

Nazarabadi phoned one of our friends. When he came, I knew him. He was Gholam Hussien Veysmoradi, one of Sarpol-e Zahab prisoners in camp-15, Tikrit. I met him after twenty-two years again. Nazarabadi explained that after we were captured, they were a few days in the area until arrival of reinforcements, then he searched the whole region along with someone else to find our body in the case of being martyred. When he had become disappointment of finding us, had pull RPGs and weapons, which had hidden under earth, out of soil and had delivered them to the Army.

We had gathered again, but this time there was no barbed wire, no guardians, no cable and batons, no hot sun which burned you, and no shadow its coolness hurts you. A cup of tea with a sugar, had sweetened the bitterness of our captivity memories, and life was flowing like the pleasant aromas which was twisting from hot tea.

The End